Why Boundaries Are Not Just A White People Thing
Are Boundaries Just A White People Thing?
If you’ve ever tried to set a boundary with your South Asian family and immediately felt like the worst person alive, this one is for you.
Because apparently, according to the internet, all you need to do to heal is:
“Just set a boundary.”
Just say no.
Just tell them how you feel.
Just stop people pleasing.
Just put yourself first.
Lovely.
Except… what if you grew up in a family where putting yourself first was basically considered a personality defect?
What if saying no to your parents was seen as disrespectful?
What if your family genuinely believes that family comes before everything?
What if you’ve been taught that a “good daughter”, “good son” or “good kid” sacrifices their own wants for everyone else?
And what if the person you’re setting a boundary with is also the person you rely on for housing, money, childcare, community, emotional support or a sense of belonging?
Suddenly, “just set a boundary” feels a little less straightforward.
And this is something I think gets missed when we talk about boundaries in South Asian families and collectivist cultures.
Why do boundaries feel so difficult in South Asian families?
A lot of mainstream conversations about boundaries are rooted in a very individualistic idea of relationships.
You have your life.
I have mine.
You have your needs.
I have mine.
You are responsible for your feelings.
I am responsible for mine.
And honestly?
There is a lot that I love about that.
Being able to have your own identity, make your own choices and have relationships that aren't completely dictated by other people's expectations is important.
But many of us didn't grow up with that model.
We grew up with “family is everything.”
We grew up with the idea that what happens to one person affects everyone.
Your choices reflect on your family.
Your behaviour reflects on your parents.
Your relationship affects the family.
Your career affects the family.
Who you marry affects the family.
Where you live affects the family.
Even what you wear can somehow become a family meeting.
And there are genuinely beautiful things about this kind of collectivism.
There is community.
There is generosity.
There is hospitality.
There is a willingness to show up for each other.
There is often a huge amount of care.
I love that part.
But there can also be a downside.
Sometimes togetherness comes at the expense of individuality.
Sometimes keeping the peace becomes more important than telling the truth.
Sometimes loyalty becomes more important than accountability.
And sometimes the person who says, “Actually, I don't want to do this” becomes the problem.
When boundaries feel like betrayal
If you've grown up with strong family expectations, setting a boundary can feel completely different from what you see on TikTok.
It might not feel empowering.
It might feel terrifying.
You might feel guilty.
You might feel selfish.
You might feel like you're abandoning your family.
You might worry that you've become “too Western”.
You might hear:
“Who do you think you are?”
“We've done everything for you.”
“After everything we've sacrificed?”
“You've changed.”
“This is what happens when you live in the West.”
And suddenly you're questioning whether asking for something incredibly reasonable is actually some enormous act of betrayal.
This is where I think we need a more culturally nuanced conversation about boundaries.
Because boundaries aren't about rejecting your culture.
They aren't about becoming selfish.
They aren't about refusing to care about your family.
And they definitely aren't about cutting everyone off.
Boundaries are about understanding where you end and another person begins.
But learning that distinction can be really difficult when you've spent your entire life being taught that your role is to look after everyone else.
People pleasing can be a survival strategy
One of the biggest things I see around boundaries is people pleasing.
And if you grew up in a South Asian family, you might have become incredibly good at it.
You might know exactly what everyone wants from you.
You know when Mum is annoyed before she's said anything.
You know which topics will cause an argument.
You know which relatives you need to keep happy.
You know when to stay quiet.
You know when to smile.
You know when to say:
“It's fine.”
Even when it really, really isn't.
You might have learnt to anticipate other people's needs before they even have to ask.
And sometimes that's because you've been rewarded for being helpful, agreeable and easy.
But sometimes it's because it was genuinely safer.
If saying no resulted in screaming, threats, rejection, being kicked out, financial consequences or physical violence, then of course your nervous system learnt:
Don't say no.
That's not you being weak.
That's your brain trying to keep you safe.
And this is really important because I don't want anyone reading this to think:
“Oh shit. I'm a people pleaser. I need to start setting boundaries with everyone immediately.”
No.
Please don't do that if it could put you at risk.
You don't need to set a boundary just because someone on Instagram told you to
There is a huge difference between:
“My mum gets annoyed when I say no.”
and
“If I say no, my mum could physically hurt me or I could lose my home.”
Those are not the same situation.
One might require you to practise tolerating someone's disappointment.
The other might require careful safety planning and additional support.
Sometimes people pleasing is still protecting you from an active threat.
And if that's the case, you do not need to shame yourself for surviving.
Your behaviour might make complete sense when you understand what it has been protecting you from.
This is particularly important when we're talking about family trauma, abuse and generational trauma.
You don't have to prove that you're healed by putting yourself in danger.
So what actually is a boundary?
A boundary isn't:
“You are not allowed to be angry with me.”
That's control.
A boundary is more like:
“If you shout at me, I'm going to end the conversation.”
A boundary isn't:
“You have to agree with my decision.”
It's:
“You don't have to agree with my decision, but I'm still going to make it.”
A boundary isn't about controlling another person's behaviour.
It's about deciding what you are willing to participate in.
And this is where boundaries can actually become really powerful.
Because you stop asking:
“How do I get them to understand?”
and start asking:
“What am I going to do?”
You are allowed to have needs
If you've spent years putting everyone else's needs first, you might not even know what your own needs are anymore.
You might know what everyone else wants.
But ask yourself:
What do I want?
And suddenly… nothing.
Or:
“I don't mind.”
“Whatever you want.”
“I'm happy with anything.”
“It's fine.”
This can be a sign that you've become disconnected from your own preferences.
So start small.
What food do you actually want?
Where do you want to go?
What time do you want to leave?
Do you actually want to attend that family event?
Do you want to answer that phone call?
Do you want to lend that money?
Do you want to have that conversation right now?
You don't have to start with the biggest boundary of your life.
You can start with:
“Actually, I want pizza.”
And yes.
I am serious.
Start practising taking up space
If you're not used to expressing your wants, boundaries can feel like a muscle you've never exercised.
So start small.
Practise saying:
“I want…”
Practise saying:
“I need…”
Practise saying:
“I don't want to…”
Practise saying:
“That doesn't work for me.”
Practise letting someone else be mildly disappointed.
Because this is the bit people often don't tell you:
Boundaries don't always feel good.
Sometimes you will feel guilty.
Sometimes someone will be annoyed.
Sometimes someone will misunderstand you.
Sometimes someone will accuse you of being selfish.
And sometimes you will have to sit there and let them feel that.
You don't have to immediately fix it.
You don't have to explain yourself seventeen different ways.
You don't have to write a PowerPoint presentation proving that your boundary is reasonable.
Sometimes you can just let the discomfort exist.
Are you actually keeping the peace?
I think this is such an important question for anyone who grew up in a family where keeping the peace was a big deal.
Ask yourself:
Do I feel at peace?
Because if you are constantly keeping everyone else happy while you're exhausted, resentful, anxious, burnt out or miserable…
Are you actually keeping the peace?
Or are you just absorbing all of the conflict yourself?
Sometimes we call it keeping the peace when what we're really doing is preventing other people from experiencing the consequences of their own behaviour.
And that can become exhausting.
You become the fixer.
The mediator.
The emotional support person.
The one who smooths everything over.
The one who calls everyone after an argument.
The one who apologises first.
The one who says:
“It's okay, don't worry about it.”
Even when it isn't okay.
And eventually you might start wondering:
Who is looking after me?
You don't have to earn your place in your family
Another thing I want you to think about is whether you feel like you have to earn love.
If you are constantly giving, helping, fixing and sacrificing, it can start to feel like this is the reason people love you.
You become useful.
Reliable.
The responsible one.
The good kid.
The one everyone can depend on.
And being needed can feel really good.
Until you realise that you're exhausted.
Sometimes people pleasing gives us something in return.
It can give us connection.
It can give us approval.
It can make us feel valuable.
But you don't have to constantly audition for love.
You don't have to be useful to be lovable.
You don't have to make yourself indispensable to deserve a place in someone's life.
You are allowed to just exist.
Boundaries don't mean you have to stop loving your family
This is probably the biggest misconception I want to challenge.
You can love your family and have boundaries.
You can be grateful for what your parents have done for you and still recognise that some of their behaviour hurt you.
You can love your culture and reject parts of the expectations placed on you.
You can want a relationship with your family without giving them unlimited access to you.
You can choose connection without choosing self-abandonment.
And sometimes boundaries might actually make a relationship healthier.
Because instead of silently building resentment while doing things you don't want to do, you can start having more honest relationships.
That's not rejection.
That's authenticity.
What if my family says I'm selfish?
If you're new to boundaries, you might hear this a lot.
And honestly?
Sometimes people will call you selfish because you're no longer doing something that benefited them.
That doesn't automatically mean you're selfish.
Think about it.
If someone has become accustomed to you always saying yes, your first no can feel enormous to them.
But their discomfort doesn't necessarily mean you've done something wrong.
You are allowed to disappoint people.
You are allowed to have preferences.
You are allowed to change.
You are allowed to grow into a version of yourself that your family didn't expect.
And you don't have to make yourself smaller so that everyone else can remain comfortable.
Boundaries are not about becoming “less South Asian”
I really want to make this clear.
I don't think healing means rejecting collectivism and becoming completely individualistic.
I don't want us to throw away the beautiful parts of our cultures in order to become “healthy”.
Community matters.
Family matters.
Interdependence matters.
Looking after each other matters.
But interdependence is not the same thing as self-abandonment.
You can care about other people without disappearing inside their needs.
You can be part of a family without being responsible for everyone's emotions.
You can have a community without surrendering your autonomy.
And you can love where you come from while choosing a different way of relating.
So… how do you start setting boundaries?
Start by getting curious.
Ask yourself:
What do I actually want?
What am I saying yes to when I really want to say no?
What am I afraid will happen if I say no?
How did people respond to my needs when I was growing up?
Do I associate having needs with being selfish?
Do I feel responsible for other people's emotions?
What happens inside my body when someone is disappointed with me?
What relationships leave me feeling like I have to perform or earn love?
Where in my life do I feel like I don't have permission to take up space?
And then start small.
You don't have to suddenly announce your biggest boundary at the next family dinner.
Start practising having preferences.
Start noticing your needs.
Start tolerating a little bit of discomfort.
Start saying what you actually want.
And, importantly, make sure the boundary is safe to set.
If there is abuse, financial dependence, housing insecurity or another genuine threat involved, you may need a different approach.
Sometimes the most compassionate thing you can do for yourself isn't setting a boundary immediately.
Sometimes it's getting support first.
You are allowed to want things
If you grew up believing that being a good person meant keeping everyone else happy, it can feel incredibly uncomfortable to put yourself back into the equation.
But you are allowed to have needs.
You are allowed to want things.
You are allowed to say no.
You are allowed to disappoint people.
You are allowed to take up space.
You are allowed to have a life that doesn't perfectly match the one your family imagined for you.
And you don't have to stop loving your family to start loving yourself.
Your needs matter too.
And honestly?
Boundaries aren't just for white people.
They're for you, too.
If you're struggling with boundaries, family guilt or people pleasing
If you're a South Asian, immigrant or culturally diverse person struggling with people pleasing, family expectations, generational trauma, parentification, guilt or difficult family dynamics, therapy can be a space to explore where these patterns came from and what you actually want your relationships to look like.
You don't have to choose between caring about your family and caring about yourself.
My approach is culturally responsive and trauma-informed, and I work with adults across the UK online around family dynamics, identity, belonging, generational trauma and the pressure to hold everything together.
You can book a call with me here.
Until next time x